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Wednesday, June 06, 2012

Hear My Silent Hands

Picture from the net***

When I woke up, the sky had opened up above me
like a vast canvas. It was a beautiful day, with gorgeous white-hot sun
cresting in the horizon. Beyond my room…the shimmering trellis of dwarf
Poinciana, Calleas, Gul Mohar in their varied hues were scraping the edges of my
window pane. A flock of parrots crossed silently fanning the fiery crimson,
white, yellow and orange blossoms. And this sudden gust of breeze interrupted
my thoughts; erasing lines between me and the Nature.

I decided to leave my window open and walked
to my Mom’s carved armchair, passing through her photograph that my late father
had taken once in the terrace. The sunlight playing mysteriously across her
face, directed me on her stoned eyes for the first time... now, at the age of
ten, it was as if I had a kind of epiphany. I realized suddenly, that my mother
was a little different than most...

Darkness clouded my mind making the beautiful
morning sad, stilling all that was so comradely.

I stood still, taking deep breaths while the
world moved around me, the faint and soft scents from the flowering trees
drfited towards me like fumes of peace--- a spicy delicacy that often, me and
my mother shared together--- For my mother, the colors of life remained eternally
drab and gray even in sun struck places, and for me, my numb tongue remained
coiled forever; yet, we progressed. How?

Sense of perceptions and bonhomie allowed us
to grow with a kindness that expected nothing in return; and then the other
active sensory perceptions compensated further for our physical limitations. And after
that happened, our lives got connected to everything else…perhaps that is the
luxury of being born with impairments! All my emotions started bursting out
suddenly, as if I’d been holding them back for a long time.

I was sitting still, with my arms folded
around my knees, and woke up to a shadow blazing in through the eastern door
and it was my silhouetted mother standing in the centre of light. Wind blew
some stray strands of hair across her face... I looked on, walked up to her and
gently turned her towards the window, and made her sit on my bed.

I ran my fingers lightly over her shielded
eyes. She didn’t speak, neither did I….I started to sketch everything that was
beautiful around us, imprinting every detail carefully, deftly on her forearms with my fingertips. Her
lips were quivering, but, she held back the words, as they were of no use for
me… tears trickled down my eyes for the first time. Mother turned towards me,
sensing my pain, the lines on her face started growing deeper now. She bit her
lips, and I latched on to her like an infant. She nodded, tears welled up in
her eyes too...the love was within us all the time, but, its only renewal came
today from giving it away...

--------------------------------

At one point of time, I was working with an NGO and gained access to the world
of physically challenged children....Allow
yourself to feel what they feel, experience what they have experienced. Allow
yourself to bond with them....bet, you'll be changed forever
!!

Deepak,Thank you for such a delightful comment. I've come to believe that it's the wishes and blessings that play the key role (behind the scenes) in taking you to your goal... And therefore let's remember and feel them everyday!Thanks so much :))

Umashankar,Welcome to my page :) It's a great feel to know that this sharing of experience was inspiring for the reader. I shared my story and I'm sure there are many other stories of this kind out in the world.Thanks for your wonderful words of encouragement. Hope to see you more often on these pages :))Thanks a bunch !

That was simply brilliant. You have portrayed so beautifully a world that we hardly understand or even try to understand. Such richness of thoughts, emotions and words! It felt happy after reading this one. :)

Raj!Pleasure seeing you here always! Thanks for your encouragement:)) I wish I could tell you how happy I feel that for you the effect of the various emotions of the story were the same as they were for me. ...!! I am glad you enjoyed reading this piece...:))) Thanks a ton!!

I read it two times. I was picturing the morning you painted here. And I was numb when you started to describe the mother. However, following phrase brought mixed emotions, 'perhaps that is the luxury of being born with impairments!'

Wow that was so beautifully narrated... powerful imagery, was like watching a short movie which was in brilliant colour in the beginning and then fading into black and white! ... superb writing Panchali!!

She nodded, tears welled up in her eyes too...the love was within us all the time, but, its only renewal came today from giving it away..

Dear PanchaliHad posted my comments on the first day but look s like it did not get registered--the lines copy pasted above are so true love is one emotion or blessing which can be felt and which increases only when given away.